KHALED AL KHAWALDEH (ABU DHABI)
The majlis — literally “a place to sit” in Arabic — is the social heart of Emirati life. Whether it is a cool room tacked onto a family villa, a carpeted tent pitched beside the desert, or simply a circle of cushions beneath date-palm fronds, the majlis is where news is exchanged, disagreements are settled, and hospitality is performed.
Now, a new generation of architects is turning the centuries-old idea into an exportable architectural language, arguing that contemporary Arab architects should look inward to their traditions before looking outwards for inspiration.
“No one questions what a majlis means here,” said architect-researcher Riyad Joucka, Founder of Dubai-based Middle East Architecture Network (MEAN) and the UAE’s first Fellow in Practice at Zayed University.
“But if we want the world to understand it, we have to define its DNA and then show how flexible it can be,” he told Aletihad on the sidelines of the Cultural Summit in Abu Dhabi this week.
MEAN’s research project, “The Adaptive Majlis”, treats the gathering space less as a finished building and more as a typology — a catalogue of elements which Joucka said could be combined like Lego bricks. The idea is to take the details that make sitting around a majlis so comforting, combine them with sustainable architectural practices, in hope of creating a guide for future architects.
By isolating core components — shade, thermal comfort, egalitarian seating and a clear threshold between guest and host — Joucka believes architects can keep the soul of the majlis while letting its form change with context.
“If you look at some of the seating plants of the majlis, usually they're in a U shape, where the sort of head of the majlis is sitting in the centre,” he explained.
“The newer generation sits around a TV and a PlayStation, maybe during Ramadan or Eid. That's how the young members of the family convene in a majlis. So, we're studying these different sort of phenomena, social phenomena, and trying to come up with what the future of the majlis could look like.”
He added that much of the work was also based around exploring the past to understand how we can make modern building more suitable. For example, this could be by using palm trees composites or recycled wood to replace concrete or using wind towers and traditional cooling tactics, borrowed from pre-oil Gulf houses.
“Our ancestors survived without glass curtain walls. They had wind towers, thick walls, deep overhangs — those lessons are waiting,” Joucka said.
“The point is not nostalgia, it’s continuity.”
Exporting a unique Gulf architectural brand
Joucka explained that for decades, the Gulf’s skyline had been shaped by imported “starchitects” and reflective glass towers ill-suited to 45-degree heat. Joucka, who recently toured expos in Osaka and Shanghai, argued that the UAE has matured past that phase.
“Tokyo has Kengo Kuma and Osaka’s pavilions were almost all Japanese-designed,” he said.
“We now have the talent pool to do the same. The world is already watching us — this is the moment to export ideas conceived here, by people who live in the climate and the culture.”
None of this meant abolishing landmark architecture. Joucka acknowledged the need for icons, like the Jean Nouvel’s Louvre Abu Dhabi, in any global city but warned against equating identity with spectacle.
“A building can be a flex,” he said. “But a majlis is a dialogue and dialogues travel. We’re not selling arches and mashrabiya, we’re selling a way of gathering.”